Titanic
by catchmeonfiree
Summary: Quinn Fabray, meet Sam Evans and the time of your life aboard God's unsinkable: Titanic. AU Please review, angel-cakes! Thanks! :3
1. Mirror

A/N: _Yay! New fic! Just an idea that popped in my head last night, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. =D So, probably all of you have watched the movie, 'Titanic', written and directed by James Cameron, the genius behind 'Avatar'. So, this fic is gonna somewhat gonna be like the movie, but some scenes are tweaked and altered a bit, but mostly follows the same sorta plot. Cool? Nice. :) And for my other fics: 'Meet the Evans' will be updated very soon. I've got the next chapter started, and it should be up in no time. For 'THHBBB', that will ALSO be updated soon. I've a lot of that written as well, both fics about the same length. This one, 'Titanic', it will be in Quinn's point of view. And, Titanic is not my movie and it's not owned by me. That's why the characters (other than Sam and Quinn) have different names than the ones used in the movie. Nice? Awesome. Let's begin. =) _

^.^

O.O

_Near, far, wherever you are.  
><em>_I believe that the heart does go on.  
><em>_Once more, you open the door,  
><em>_And you're here in my heart  
><em>_And my heart will go on and on._

- _My Heart Will Go On_, Celine Dion

O.O

"Shit."

"No diamond."

"You know, boss? The same thing happened to Geraldo and his career never recovered."

"Turn the camera off."

…

Jackson Fallon wandered across the Keldysh, looking around at all the items preserved by the ocean's salty waters.

"Jackson, the partners would like to know how it's going."

He picked up the phone, trying to maintain a positive attitude while breaking the news to the guys fast and quickly.

"Hey, Will. Jake. Hi, it wasn't in the safe, but, hey, don't worry about it! There's still plenty of other places it could be."

The scientists took a flabby, worn, and old notebook and placed it into a small aquarium and rinsed it out with clear water.

"Hell yes! The floor debris, the suite, the mother's room, Purser's safe in 'C' deck."

"Jimmy Hoffa's briefcase," noted one of Jackson's assistants, Kyle. His nose was covered in Coppertone sunscreen.

"A dozen other places. Guys, look. You've just got to trust my instincts. I know we're close. We've just got to go through a little process of elimination."

Jackson glanced over to the screen, where it showed the relic in it's most finest detail, other than looking at it itself.

"Hang on a second."

Kyle turned his head over to the screen, where a beautiful woman was coming into view. Her blonde hair spread across what seemed to be a sofa of some sorts, her arms and legs placed delicately along her naked body. Her face was somewhat neutral, but still she radiated stunning beauty into the painting. Her eyes shone, and it seemed to be a blazing hazel, although the picture was in black and white. Brock gave his phone to his assistant.

"Let me see that." Jackson rushed over to where the painting was being examined.

"Uhh, we might have something here, guys."

Jackson couldn't believe his eyes. This couldn't be it.

"Where's the photo of the necklace?"

"We'll call you right back," Kyle said.

Jackson snagged the photo off the wall and rushed back over to the painting. The scientist held up the notebook up to semi-eye level and Jackson placed the photograph of 'The Heart of the Ocean' right next to it. His eyes bulged out and went wild. His heart beat raced and climbed to the top of this chest. The date on the lower right hand corner of the drawing said, '_April 14, 1912_'.

"I'll be Goddamned."

…

_Treasure hunter, Jackson Fallon is best known for finding Spanish gold..._

"It's OK, I'll feed you in a minute," Gabby said to our golden retriever. The television news report hadn't sparked up any conversation in the house... yet.

_He's chartered a Russian sub to reach the most famous shipwreck of all: Titanic. He's with us live via satelite from the research ship, Keldysh in the North Atlantic._

I sat outside in the balcony, molding a new flower vase out of some clay. When it was to be finished, my granddaughter, Gabby, and I paint them with bright colors and let them dry to be filled with all sorts of daisies and roses.

And so like any other day, I was carving my pottery, with the warm summer breezes entering and exiting the apartment, city cars and their horns making a noisy yet relaxing combination. That was when suddenly, I heard the television.

_Hello, Jackson. _

_Hello, Sonia. Of course, everyone knows the stories of Titanic. You know, the nobility, the band playing, and all that. But I'm interested in the untold stories, secrets locked deep inside the hull of Titanic._

That had caught my attention.

_And we're out here using robot technology to go further into the wreck than anybody's ever done before._

_You're at the center of a controversy, at the center of a storm over salvage rights, and even ethics._

I got up from my lima bean green iron rusted chair on the balcony, making my way into the warm kitchen, where the image of a man on the television screen showed up.

_Many are calling you a grave robber._

_Well, nobody ever called the recovery of King Tut-_

Gabby stood in my way of the screen, thus making me lose the sound of Mister Fallon speaking.

"What is it?" she asked, holding Wally's dog dish.

"Turn that up, dear."

She walked over and gently turned the knob on the TV slightly to the right, making the volume perfect for me to comprehend.

_I have museum trained experts here making sure that these relics are preserved and cataloged properly. Take a look at this drawing we found just today._

The camera moved over to a ripped up, damaged notebook submerged in an aquarium tank.

_A piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years and my team were able to preserve it intact. _

My eyes shut closer and tighter together at the same time, taking in the painting, letting it flow through in my brain.

_Should this have been remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity?_

My heart skipped a beat, memories flooding into my heart... just like that fateful night aboard the Titanic.

"I'll be Goddamned."

…

The Keldysh was about to launch another sub into the North Atlantic when Kyle interrupted Jackson's attention on it.

"Jackson! There's a satellite call for you."

"Kyle, we're launching! You see these submersibles going in there?"

"Trust me, buddy. You want to take this call."

"This better be good."

The two of them walked over to telephone.

"Now, you gotta speak up. She's kinda old."

"Great."

Jackson picked up the phone, waiting for whatever news was about to be given.

"This is Jackson Fallon. How may I help you, Mrs...?" Jackson put his hand over the phone, silently asking Kyle what the woman's name was.

"Puckerman. Quinn Puckerman."

"... Mrs. Puckerman?"

I answered on the other end of the line.

"I was just wondering if you had found 'The Heart of the Ocean' yet, Mr. Fallon."

Jackson shot his head to Kyle, mouth gaping.

"Told you you wanted to take the call."

"Alright, you have my attention, Quinn. Can you tell us who the woman in the picture is?"

"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me."

…

The helicopter flew in from the crisp air, about to be landing onto the top and outer layer of the Keldysh. Gabby, Wishie, and I were looking out the window, beginning another adventure of a lifetime out at sea.

…

"She's a Goddamn liar! Some nutcase seeking money or publicity! God only knows what! Like that Russian babe, Anaesthesia! They're inbound!"

The helicopter came in closer and closer to the Keldysh.

"Quinn Fabray died on the Titanic when she was 17. Right?"

"That's right."

"If she had lived, she'd be over a hundred by now."

"A hundred and one, next month."

"OK, so she's a very _OLD _Goddamn liar!"

Jackson, Kyle, and Bobby, the one who Jackson was arguing with at the moment, made their way up the wet stairwells, past the staterooms, and around the corridors.

"Look, I've already done the background on this woman all the way back to the twenties when she was working as an actress. An actress! There's your first clue, Sherlock! Her name was Quinn Evans back then, then she marries this guy named Puckerman, they move to Lima, and she punches out a couple of kids. Now Puckerman's dead, and from what I hear, Lima is dead!"

"And everyone knows the diamond is supposed to be dead on this boat, but she knows!"

The trio finally made it out onto the deck, and the helicopter flew in. A huge gust of sea air was pushed into every one's faces, salt sneaking into their hair. The deck was noisy, and you could barely hear anything. To communicate, you would have to shout.

It finally landed, and the men who worked on the ship took all our luggage out and placed them onto the floor of the Keldysh.

Kyle walked over to Bobby and Bobby screamed into his ear.

"Doesn't exactly travel light, does she?"

I was carried off the helicopter while still being safe and secure in my wheelchair, with Wishie on my lap and Gabby right behind us.

"Mrs. Puckerman! I'm Jackson Fallon! Welcome to the Keldysh!"

They gently but quickly put me onto the ground.

"OK, let's get her inside there!"

Gabby hopped off the helicopter, her aviator sunglasses shining in the ocean sun and sky.

"Hi, Ms. Puckerman! I'm Jackson Fallon! Welcome to the Keldysh!"

Gabby pushed away the workermen who were trying to steer me and took a grip on the wheelchair's handles and we went on to the staterooms.

The pilot stopped Jackson from leaving and handed him my goldfish, a perplexed look spreading across his face.

…

Gabby and I were in our staterooms, and I was setting my photographs onto a dresser, careful of all the positions, how much I would be able to see of each one, the angles they were all faced in. There were a couples knocks on our door.

"Yes?"

"Are your staterooms alright?"

"Oh yes. Very nice. Well, have you met my granddaughter, Gabby? She takes care of me."

"We met just a few minutes ago. Remember, Gramma? Up on deck?"

I shook my head and brought my hand up to my forehead in disappointment to myself. The memory's growing just as old as me. Jackson looked over to Bobby.

"There. That's nice," setting my last photo. "Got to have my pictures when I travel."

"Can I get you anything? Is there anything you'd like?" asked Jackson.

"Yes. I would like to see my drawing."

…

I peered over the top of the tank, seeing my old self in the image of the water... almost as a reflection.

I closed my eyes, remembering that exact moment when he had his grip on that same notebook, with the same piece of charcoal used in that picture that had been grasped in his hands. The warm fire glowing in the room, dim lights flooded upon us.

I saw his tea-leaf green eyes peeping out from behind his light blonde strands fallen onto his determined face.

"Louis XVI wore a fabulous stone that was called 'The Blue Diamond of the Crown', which disappeared in 1792. About the same time ol' Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that 'The Crown Diamond' was chopped to be cut into a heart-like shape and became known as 'The Heart of the Ocean'. Today, it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond."

"It was a dreadful, heavy thing. I only wore it this once."

"You really think this is you, Gramma?"

"It is me, dear. Wasn't I a dish?"

Jackson chuckled.

"I tracked it down through insurance records. An old claim that was titled under terms of absolute secrecy. Can you tell me whose claim it was, Quinn?"

"I should imagine someone named Hudson."

"Christopher Hudson. That's right. California gold rush millionaire. The claim was for a diamond necklace his son, Finn bought for his fiancé. You. A week before he sailed on Titanic. It was filed right after the sinking. So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship."

I had wanted to speak up... but just couldn't.

"You see the date?"

Gabby looked over my shoulder and onto the drawing.

"April 14, 1912," she answered.

"Which means if your grandmother is who she says she is, she was wearing the necklace the day the Titanic sank," explained Bobby.

"That makes you... my new best friend." Jackson smiled.

…

"These are some of the things we recovered from your stateroom."

I leaned forward to a small table covered with a felt-like tablecloth and gently picked up an old mirror stained from being submerged in the water for 84 years.

"This was mine!"

I felt it's rustiness, the flowers on the back of the mirror. It's purple-ness slowly fading away, but still very visible. It's shine was hidden under the rust, but it glimmered in my eyes, like it hadn't even been used before.

"How extraordinary! It looks the same last time I saw it."

I turned it over to the front, seeing the glass broken and slightly shattered. I sighed after seeing the person inside staring straight back at me with the same lovestruck look on the face.

"Hmm... the reflection's changed a bit," I muttered, then placed it back on the table, Jackson helping me as well while Gabby observed with me.

I picked up a green butterfly hair brooch. It's emerald right in the middle was still beaming with magnificence. It's left wing was chipped a bit, and one of the legs sticking out was broken. Jackson knelt down to be eye-level with me.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"

…

"OK, here we go. She hits the berg on the starboard side, right? She kinda bumps along, punchin' holes like Morse code: dit, dit, dit! Along the side, below the waterline. But then the watertight compartments start to flood. Now as the water level rises, it spills over the watertight bulkhead, which, unfortunately, don't go any higher than 'E' deck. So now as the bow goes down, the stern rises up. Slow at first, then faster and faster until finally she's got her whole ass, stickin' up in the air. And that's a big ass; we're talkin' 20, 30 thousand tons. OK? And the hull's not designed to deal with that pressure, so what happens? KETTP! She splits, right down to the keel. And the stern falls back level. Then as the bow sinks, it pulls the stern vertical and then finally detaches. Now the stern section just kinda bobs there like a cork for a couple of minutes, floods, then finally goes under at about 2:20am. Two hours and forty minutes after the collision."

I sat there, listening intently, but also remembering that night when my future was right in front of my very own eyes.

"The bow section planes away, landing about a half a mile away going twenty, thirty knots when it hits the ocean floor. POOM! BLPTTSHH! Pretty cool, huh?"

"Thank you for that fine, forensic analysis, Mr. Bourgion. Of course, the experience of it was... somewhat different."

Jackson looked at me with straight eyes.

"Will you share it with us?"

I slowly got up from my wheelchair, Gabby's hand guiding me to where I was going. I turned around from my position and stared at a screen right ahead. Gently with my cane in my hand, I walked over, step by step. My eyebrows furrowed at the sight I saw. Not that it was bad, of course. I stepped closer, my face barely touching the screen.

The corridor of the ship looked dreary. Of course, 84 years ago, the walls were shining, freshly painted. Now, it was damp and rusted. Dead. I took in deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

The Grand Staircase's magnificent doors came into view. Like the corridors, it was all rusted and didn't look grand at all. The intricate designs that once flourished the surface and shone in gold was now black and filthy. Thinking back, I saw two gentlemen opening the door for me, stepping into a dream come true.

I started to tear up. I couldn't take it anymore. I put my hands to my face and buried it in there. Gabby grabbed me by the hips.

"I'm taking her to rest."

"No."

"Come on, Gramma."

"No!"

Kyle had a recorder in his hand, and Jackson took it from him, sitting down across from me.

"Tell us, Quinn."

"It's been 84 years."

"It's OK, just try to remember anything. Anything at all."

I looked at him.

"Do you want to hear this or not, Mr. Fallon?"

A smile grew on their faces.

"It's been 84 years. And I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called 'The Ship of Dreams'... and it was... it really was."

^.^

_So that was the beginning of this new fic! I am really, seriously gonna love this one because 'Titanic' is one of my most favorite movies of all times. I watched it when I was really young. So as we indulge further into this, I will NOT write everything almost word for word. That's really it. :) Please review guys. That's really I ask for. That's what makes me so happy and gets me going to update faster and sooner! Thanks so much! It really means a lot! I love you guys! Thanks again and please review, you awesome-fluffilicious-bunnies! =D _


	2. King

A/N: _Hello everyone! Well, first off, the amount of reviews I got for the first chapter was super awesome, and I thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, alerted, and all that good stuff! Like I've said time after time, it means so much to me, and I really appreciate and thank you for it. :) Some people have asked/suggested that I take the story and plot of the movie to this fic a bit differently, and that's exactly how I have it planned. Some things ARE gonna be changed (not a whole lot, though!), but overall... you wouldn't say that this is a whole different movie than 'Titanic', but then again, it's not the exact same thing either. __**PLEASE READ: I know that people usually skip this portion, but this is important. In the film, there's background music to the scene when Titanic leaves the dock. That song is called 'Southampton'. I STRONGLY encourage you to YouTube that music up and listen to it when you read this chapter. I'm not the strongest writer out there, but to actually feel all the sights and sounds and smells and stuff, please listen to 'Southampton' while reading this chapter. Then, when you get to the last part when Jack and Fabrizio are out at the bow, please read that with 'Take Her To Sea, Mr. Murdoch'. Those two songs will just make the experience so much better since I'm such a horrible writer. =P** I'm trying to organize the music along with which chapter it goes with. Planning all this is hard, but all you guys' encouragement and reviews and help is splendid and wonderful and it makes me so happy to know that you care. The reviews were awesome. __Thanks again! Yup... enjoy! =D_

^.^

It was a booming day in Southampton, the sun shining and voices in the air. The sea water had never smelled so fresh and the dock never been so busy. Footsteps scattered across the ground and people gathering up in lousy lines, ready to board the RMS Titanic.

The ship was enormous, and it lit up the entire world. It practically stretched across the whole universe and you could see it even from space! Titanic was as tall as a skyscraper, a dinosaur! The bottom of the ship was coveted in a brilliant coat of black and the top was painted with the purest shade of white. Windows were on every visible part of the ship, and as you looked out from one of them... you could see the entire world.

Smoke steamed from funnels on top, and down on the ground, you could view the deck furniture with little chairs and tables, benches all over the place. You could tell that the ship's deck was a vast and open space, where you could roam for hours and hours and never get bored or tired. Then, you could explore the entire ship, and you turn every corner, walk every inch, and never cease to find an adventure.

Then, there was the flag. The magnificent British flag flying on the end of the vessel, shimmering in the warm spring sun. It was ginormous, and you walk back a kazillion miles and still see the radiance. The words, _RMS Titanic _were painted in big, bold white letters on the front, and it really tied the ship together, and you couldn't have even seen such an awe-inspiring beauty. You really couldn't have.

Down below, the lines were hustling. Several cars from the first class men were honking, driving through the swarm of immigrants to America. Ladies and lads with their children and luggage pushed their way into the crowd, squeezing into the lines where you checked in. There were special lines for special people, with the upper class and the second class and the third class.

The people up above in the ship quickly scurried onto the deck and peered down into the crowd, waving and screaming, thinking, _I've made it, I've made it_! Cars were hauled onto the deck, people dodging it, trying not to get hit.

With such a scene and an intake of the salty sea air breath, you could hear the most marvelous music playing and choir singing in the background, and nothing at the moment could have ever seemed more perfect.

"...please! This queue! Right here, please!" shouted a health inspector through the herd of humans racing to board the most amazing thing on Earth.

Spectators among the crowd stared at the ship, wishing how they should've scraped the money together and ride God's gift.

"Big boat, uh?" a man asked his daughter while she was on his hip and she gaped at the wonder.

"Daddy, it's a ship," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're right," he answered.

A car beeped it's way into the crowd, barely touching a man in the trail on a bicycle. The little girl, still being carried by her father, turned to look back, her hair floating in the wind.

A brilliant black and gold automobile parked in a random spot, it's copper and silver plates joining the gold in a competition against the sun to see who shone the brightest.

A chauffeur stepped out of his driver's seat and walked behind it to a small door made of glimmering silver. His gloved hand met another one as he opened the door and it revealed a stunning blonde beauty with gleaming hazel eyes, now the winner of the one with most radiance. Her name was Quinn Fabray, and upon hearing that name... it was like being royalty. The previous imaginary background choir and music now sped up to upbeat, fastpaced butt-movin', hip-swingin' tune and it just made you want to smile.

Hatewoe, the bodyguard, jumped out of his seat from the front of the automobile and quickly with the slight of hand opened the door for Quinn's mother, Judy Fabray. Both hurriedly went on over to the car where Quinn was.

Finn Hudson's smile was as long and beautiful as the Titanic itself as he got out from his seat, joining Quinn by her side. His eyes gleamed at the sight of the vessel and despite his selfish needs... he had never felt so exhilarated before.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," stated Quinn, "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania."

"You can be blasé about some things, Quinn, but _not _about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauritania. And far more luxurious," convinced Finn.

Judy went around to Finn while Quinn walked just a little bit further, examining the ship and the people around it.

"Your daughter is far too difficult to impress, Judy."

Judy chuckled and went on over to Quinn's side. Like Quinn, as she made her way, she gawked at the marvel upon their eyes.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable," her eyes not leaving the exterior of the craftsmanship that men had put into this.

"It is unsinkable," started Finn, but a crew member kept on trying to get his attention, "God Himself could not sink this ship! What?" he finished with an annoyed tone in his voice.

"Sir, you must check your baggage through the main terminal. It's around that way, sir," he guided, his hand leading the way to where he was supposed to go to.

Finn dug into his pockets and pulled out some bills, which he handed to the man, stuffing it in his white gloved hands.

"I put my faith in you, good sir. Now, kindly see my man," Finn said.

"Yes, sir! My pleasure, sir!" he said with a newborn enthusiasm as Finn was going back to Quinn and Judy.

Hatewoe grabbed the inspector by the shoulders and led him to the places and pieces of luggage they needed in their suite and parlor.

"Right. All the trunks from that car there, twelve from here, and the safe to the Parlour Suite, Rooms B52, 54, and 56," he said before the man went off to do his work.

Finn checked his watch and knew that time was ticking. Whistles were booming across the dock and you could barely hear a thing.

"Ladies, better hurry," Finn informed Judy and Quinn.

People were near the waters and against the safety border waving to their friends and family or just some random folks on the ship, with them waving back, all hollering to each other, telling all of them to have a good trip.

The trio were making their way to the ramp that would bring all three up to the ship, making their way through the hustling crowd.

"My coat?" Quinn asked one of the maids.

"I have it, miss," they answered.

As they were passing the lower class men who were getting checked for lice, they made it up the ramp and into the massive interior of the ship, magnificence flooding into their eyes, making it overwhelming.

"Welcome aboard, ma'am. Welcome to Titanic," greeted the crew men.

Another woman in front of them had her dogs in a knotted up leash, making it difficult for her to walk through the crowd that was already there.

_It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me, it was a slave ship... taking me back to America in chains. Outwardly, I was everything a well-brought-up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming._

…

The horn blasted through the air, and you could even hear it from inside the bar near the dock, even though the windows were there to protect the ears.

Inside, at a table of four, a group of men were playing a mean round of poker. There, two men who seemed foreign quietly argued with each other, downing beers, speaking in Swedish. Another man, Fabrizio, also whispered to his gaming partner.

"Sam, you are pazzo. You bet everything we have," he said in a thick Italian accent.

Sam Evans took his cigarette from his mouth and blew out a breath of smoke.

"When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose."

"You moron. I can't believe you bet our tickets," Olaf, one of the Swedish men, said to his little buddy in, of course, Swedish.

Sam was ready. The clock on the pair of tickets that whoever was going to win was ticking away furiously. On it, it read _Third Class. White Star Line_. The clock read almost 12:00.

Sam put his cigarette down.

"Alright. Moment of truth. Somebody's life's about to change. Fabrizio?"

Fabrizio stared at him with cold eyes. He put down his cards on the table.

"Niente," said Sam.

"Niente," repeated Fabrizio.

"Olaf?"

He put his cards down in a fashion of defeat.

"Nothing," Sam stated.

Sam turned his head to the last one, not including him, though.

"Sven?"

Sven put his cards down in orderly way, the cards lining up to each other equally, making a perfect card fan. Sam sucked his breath in.

"Uh oh. Two pair. I'm sorry, Fabrizio."

Fabrizio mumbled in Italian before shouting, "You bet _all _the money!"

Sam held him back before continuing.

"I'm sorry... you're not gonna be seeing your mom again for a long time... 'cause we're going to America!" He slammed the table hard with his cards, beers shaking. "Full house, boys! Woo!"

Sven and Olaf exchanged shocked looks at each other, gasps in their mouths, but weren't escaping.

Fabrizio danced across the bar, holding the two tickets in his hands like he had never held any tickets before. He celebrated on his own in Italian, screaming for joy.

Sam took his dirty and grimy hands from smoking that cigarette and dug it into the pile of money, grabbing as much as he could before Olaf took him by the collar. He held his fist out, and Sam readied himself for the punch about to take place across his face, but instead Olaf slapped Sven straight across, knocking him off his chair, a scene starting in the bar. Sam guffawed and turned to Fabrizio, who said something along the lines of 'I love you' in Italian. Sam took the tickets out of Fabrizio's hands and kissed them before pulling Fabrizio in for a tight hug.

"I'm goin' home!"

Sven was still being punched by Olaf on the floor, hiding his face in shame.

"I'm going home!" repeated Sam.

"I'm going to America!" Fabrizio shouted. A man with a deep voice stopped them.

"No mate. _Titanic _go to America. In _five _minutes.

"Shit!"

Sam and Fabrizio grabbed their bags and picked up as much money as they could from the table where they were previously seated at before rushing out of the bar and into the noisy crowd.

"We're riding in high style now! We're a couple of regular swells!" Sam bellowed to Fabrizio as they ducked under ramps and swiveled against the people.

"Practically Goddamn royalty, ragazzo mio!"

The duo ran against time, almost bumping into two horses before expertly dodging them.

"You're pazzo!" screamed Fabrizio.

"Maybe! But I've got the tickets!"

Sam sped up even more.

"Come on! I thought you were fast!"

They turned a corner before finally reaching the ramp and bumping into an officer.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! Passengers! Passengers!"

They ran up until the ramp was cut off from the ship, handing the crew men their tickets.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" he asked.

"Of course. Anyways, we don't have any lice. We're Americans. Both of us," persuaded Sam.

"Right. Come aboard."

With that, the two leaped over the gap between the rest of the world and Titanic, the man closing the door behind them, entering a dream come true.

They zoomed past the passengers on the ship, knocking against the wall, with all they needed on their backs in a sack of freedom.

"We're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world! You know that?"

…

People still on the harbor were taking the huge ropes of the dock and into the ocean, finally letting the Titanic sail free. People all over the ships sat on anything they could find or they were standing and no matter who they knew or whatever, they had never felt happier than they ever could've at this moment in time and space. They all waved good bye, sending their best regards down to the swarm of people below. The commotion was extraordinary, and you couldn't have asked for a more wonderful place on Earth.

Sam leaped onto a railing, his foot on it tightly.

"Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!"

The horn blared once more, and now the ship actually started moving, ready to start it's first and newest journey.

"You know somebody?" Fabrizio asked.

"Of course not! That's not the point! Goodbye, I'll miss you!"

"Goodbye! I will never forget you!"

All the people aboard the ship were standing outside, waving farewell to the closest people they had or strangers down on the dock and they returned the favor. The Titanic started steaming and moving faster. The propellers below started, slowly at first, then faster and faster. They made ripples in the water, and created a strong force. Sand from the ocean floor rose and became dust, vulnerable to the mightiest ship ever. A man on the dock below was filing the entire event. His arm was getting very tired from the reeling the handle for so long, but everything was worth it just to see such a miracle. As it was slowly getting out of the picture, the people waved harder and faster, either smiles or tears on their faces, letting the memory of that scene sink deeper and deeper into their hearts. A small sailing ship near the harbor was passed by Titanic, who seemed gargantuan to the little boat.

To be completely honest... not even the best author in the entire universe could've ever found the right words to describe such a momentous, joyful, perfect, and happy event. Period.

…

A small boy and girl were following their parents in the crowded, small, third class steerage with Sam and Fabrizio behind them, trying to find their own room.

"G60... G60... excuse me, ma'am. G60... oh! Here it is. G60."

Sam pushed open the door for him and Fabrizio.

"Sam. Nice to meet you. Sam Evans. Nice to meet you," Sam introduced himself as he shook the man's hand after he had just washed it. "How ya doin'?" he asked and patted the guy's shoulder.

Fabrizio had put all his stuff on the top bunk, and already cuddled in.

"Hey, who says you get top bunk, huh?" Sam said jokingly and lightly punched him. Both started laughing.

"Where's Sven?" the man asked his roommate in Swedish.

…

"Here's your private promenade deck, sir."

The simple yet luxurious space was far beyond normal. The furniture was quite elegant, but still it fit the description for "outdoors-ey". Tall plants were in every corner, and made the place quite relaxing.

"Would you be requiring anything, sir?" asked the servant, but Finn shooed him away.

"Excuse me, sir."

Inside the parlor, the maid, Trudy, was putting away some flowers in a beautiful vase on the shelf beside the small clock.

Quinn was busily picking out her specific favorite paintings and placing them all over the suite.

"Was it this one, ma'am?" Trudy asked.

"No... it had a lot of faces on it. This is the one." Quinn held up a large canvas with many bright colors on it.

"Would you like all of them out, miss?"

"Yes... we need a little color in this room." She set down the painting on the floor.

A man came in the parlor with some more stuff towed by a mechanism of some sort, with Hatewoe telling him to put it in the wardrobe.

"God, not those finger paintings again!" Finn exclaimed when he came back inside. "They certainly were a waste of money!"

"The difference between Finn's taste and mine is that I have some. They're fascinating." She set a particularly abstract one on the sofa. "Like being inside a dream or something. There's truth, but no logic."

"What's the artist's name?" Trudy asked.

"Something Picasso."

"Something Picasso," Finn began, "He won't amount to a thing. He won't! Trust me. At least they were cheap."

The man came in again, this time, with a green safe.

"Put it in the wardrobe," insisted Hatewoe again.

…

_At Cherbourg, a woman came aboard named Margaret Brown. We all called her Molly. History would call her 'The Unksinkable Molly Brown'. _

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for ya, sonny," said Molly. She handed over a large and heavy box to a servant. "Here, ya think you can manage?"

_Her husband had struck gold someplace out west and she was what Mother called 'new money'. _

...

_By the next afternoon, we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland. Nothing out ahead of us but ocean. _

"Take her out to sea, Mr. Murdoch. Let's stretch her legs," the Captain said.

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Murdoch walked inside.

"Full ahead, Mr. Moody."

"Yes sir."

They pulled on the trigger, switching it from 'slow' to 'full'.

Down below the ship, the manager was aware.

"Full ahead, boys."

He walked around, smoke rising, the air caked with dust and ashes. The gears were grinding and going faster. Around the place, you could hear everyone saying 'Full ahead!'. People quickly switched from their previous positions and went to do their new jobs. Large legs from big machines were going back and forth, swiveling all over. Men were down there, working those parts, making the moving of Titanic possible. The manager turned a gold colored turn style object, making the gauges turn all the way to the end.

In another part of the ship, men were pummeling oven-like machines with piece after piece of coal. The fires were hot, and the embers of it alone made downstairs sweltering. They kept on chucking coal inside with shovels, also making Titanic's capability to travel possible. The propellers below the ship were getting faster and faster, picking up the pace until they were spinning as fast as cheetahs.

…

Sam and Fabrizzio jumped to the bow of the ship, if they had gone any further down, they would've been at the prow. Grabbing onto the chain at the tip of Titanic, they secured themselves. Both looked down at the fierce and rumbling waters. The prow hit the ocean sharply, white waves sweeping the ship's feet.

You would've never seen such a magnificent sight. It was too much to handle. Never, EVER, would have you EVER felt so exhilarated and carefree. It was the best feeling in the world. Titanic was filled with passengers from head to toe, doing whatever they wanted; not a care about anything. Some were out on deck, having some fun, while others stayed inside, possibly reading. Captain Edward James Smith was looking at the vast ocean waters, enjoying the fresh salt air along with his passengers, seeing that every single person on there had a life, feelings, and anything else, and then how just by the boarding of a vessel like Titanic, their lives had been changed forever. Mr. Murdoch came back out, also a smile on his face matching the Captain's.

"Twenty-one knots, sir."

With that, the Captain laid his arms out on the barrier, taking in every feeling, smell, sight, taste of such fabulous wonders.

Sam patted Fabrizio's shoulder, indicating to something.

"Hey, look, look!"

He pointed down below to the prow. In the very faintest, you could barely see a dolphin. Then, it got closer and closer and pretty soon, it jumped up into the air.

"See it?"

Another dolphin joined it, and now both were swimming in unison, both without a care in the damn world. Sam pointed down again.

"There's another one! See him?"

The wind brushed through their hair and blew their coats almost off them. The white waves were crashing against the dolphins, and pretty soon, more joined in. The sun shined on their faces, and never had they ever felt so invigorated. The water hit against the side of the ship, where it showed the water level.

"Look at that one! Look at him! Look at him go!"

Sam pointed down and a dolphin flew up into the air, making a striking jump, cutting the atmosphere.

"Woo hoo hoo!"

Sam's hair flew against the wind, and his heart pounded. The dolphins below were leaping all over the place, feeling the exact same adventure mood that Sam and Fabrizio had in their hearts. Sam's grin didn't even leave his face for a millisecond.

Up back on deck, Mr. Murdoch handed the Captain his tea as he experienced his last sailing ever again before he retired.

Sam grabbed onto the chain once more, hopping onto the railing, not caring about how dangerous it was.

"Wooh!"

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already! Very small, of course."

The sunlight glimmered across the world and Sam shouted at the very tip top of his lungs,

"I'm the King of the World! Woooh! Wooh!"

He pounded his fist in the air, and Fabrizio joined in with him soon enough.

"Woooh! Woooooooh!" both of them screamed.

"Yee haw!"

Sam howled and put his arms out, letting the world take him to wherever he was destined to go.

^.^

_Yay. I love 'Titanic' so much. It's really one of my most favorite movies. I watched it when I was like, 7, or something. No words can describe how I feel when I watch this movie, time after time. It's quite the experience. Made me wish that I was there in Southampton experiencing the most amazing thing on Earth sail away into the sunset. Do you know how amazing that would've been? Jack Dawson is the most amazing and smartest person ever, and I love him to bits. Watching this movie every time gives me chills, and every time I watch them leave Southampton, the smile on my face is irreplaceable and I have honestly never felt something like that before. Not only do I love Jack and Rose, I really just love Titanic. If we only we'd study about it in school. Sigh. I HIGHLY recommend that you read this chapter with some music in the background. The one I suggest is 'Southampton', the one from the Titanic soundtrack. It's the most amazing thing I've ever heard. :) I've never felt so happy. So here's what I'm planning to do: I'm gonna give you a song for each chapter to play in the background. Hopefully, all the other ones will get a song as well.. So please take my advice and read this with 'Southampton' on. It will make it mesmerizing. Also, remember to read the part where Jack and Fabrizio are out at the bow with 'Take Her To Sea, Mr. Murdoch'. I know I made a huge deal about this earlier, but I just wanted to remind you. :) Chapter One has been updated, and now it's supposed to be read with 'Distant Memories'. I tried really hard to make the ship seem bewildering, and I wanted to get this chapter on as fast as I could, so I would say the quality of the end of this chapter isn't as strong as I wanted it to be. Hopefully the other chapters will all be awesome! Thanks for reviewing once again! I really love it. I love you guys. Thanks! =D_

_P.S. Don't you think it's sorta funky that Jack and Rose can have such a strong and loving connection in which they would die for one another and rescue them from a sinking ship while leaving their family behind or let one get on a door and let their own self die in the freezing water when they're only known each other for four days? Titanic started sailing on April 10th, 1912 and sank, technically, on April 15th, 1912 at 2:20am. It's only on the fifteenth because it sank after midnight... T.T Haha. ^.^_

_P.S.S. In the movie, the bodyguard's name is Lovejoy, but since that is copyrighted material, and I like changin' things up, I decided to reverse it, making Lovejoy into Hatewoe. :D_


	3. Help

A/N: _Hello everyone! Thanks to all those who reviewed! It means so much! :D Sorry for the wait. The last chapter was posted around the beginning of the holidays, and you know how busy those can get. I also had a lot of projects and homework around that time, ya know, teachers tryin' get their stuff in as much as they can. I tried to make this chapter more describing in paragraphs rather than dialog, although much of the dialog is directly from the movie. I don't own anything that the characters say... I guess. IDK. __**When you get to the part where Quinn tries to attempt to jump off the ship, (and where Sam and Quinn meet for the first time!) I'd super duper appreciate it if you would read that part with the song 'Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave'. It's part of the 'Titanic' soundtrack, and it'll just make the experience so much better. **__That's it. But I'm back! Please enjoy! _

^.^

The ship's funnels shot out steam from above, blowing into the pure blue sky complete with fluffy white clouds sitting on the top of the world. Below Titanic, white waves from the azure blue ocean, smashing itself against the brilliant black coat of paint as well as pushing away and sifting into the mighty waters of the Atlantic. You could stand at the most front of the ship and look at the millions and millions of miles the water stretched for and intake a deep breath of the salty sea air and let all your troubles melt in with the water as it swam on and on forever without ever stopping. All across Titanic, passengers were roaming the vessel, footsteps scattering on the wooden boards, as heavy iron balls were kicked around by bored men and boys and first class women sat on the deck, gossiping about the latest in America. Couples strutted down the deck, the women holding small umbrellas against the shining sky and the men held their delicate hand in his own, as they discussed whatever they were in the mood of talking about. Down below, the other passengers had just as much energy as the ones above. They were on Titanic. The world's largest vessel. Their dreams had come true, truer than it could have ever gotten. The band was practicing, playing classical pieces of music by Archibald Joyce and whatnot. The sweet sounds of _Songe D'Automne _swept the prim and proper ladies and gentlemen off their well polished feet. The captain took another sip of his cooling tea, knowing his crew had did a job well done. The sun shone above them, above all of them, and it seemed at that moment that everything in the world was right. No commotion and no hate. No anger. The world was at peace and nothing could go wrong because it was just too perfect, and too much to ask for as the bold British flag waved and wagged at the end, a sure sign for strength.

…

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hands of man in all of history. And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel place up," Bruce Ismay said while smiling at a luncheon along with some first class passengers aboard Titanic, including Quinn, Finn, and Judy.

"I may have knocked her together but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious that it's supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," Thomas Andrews pounded the table the group was currently seated at lightly, "Willed into solid reality."

"Hear hear."

The dining room where the small group was currently seated at was misty. The temperature was cool and breezy, as they were sailing in early April. Potted plants were placed practically every 5 feet and other tables and guests scattered the Victorian carpeted floor, as wisps of smoke were in the air, blowing onto people's faces while they tried to make interesting conversation with similar clones of theirs, practically with the same DNA.

Quinn was bored of the conversation and picked up a long and thin cigarette, lit it up, and blew out a puff of grey smoke as she exhaled. Judy saw Quinn do so, and was quite tired of her acts, so to say.

"You know I don't like that, Quinn."

Quinn looked at her mother straight in the eyes and blew a stream of smoke right onto her face. Judy turned away and Quinn knew that the conversation was finished.

"She knows," Finn said, and grabbed the cigarette out of her dainty, white gloved hands and into a white and clean ash tray, killing the smoke. A waiter came to the table and politely asked Finn what he and Quinn would be having for lunch.

"We'll both have the lamb, rare with very little mint sauce." Finn's eyebrows furrowed slightly, scared that he had ordered the wrong thing for Quinn. "You like lamb, right sweet pea?"

Quinn put on the most fake smile as her crimson red lips stretched across her angelic face.

"You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Finn? Haha," Margaret Brown asked, as Finn gave her a look that made her rather embarrassed. "Hey, who thought of the name 'Titanic'? Was it you, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually," Ismay answered with his light British accent, "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."

Quinn gave him an annoyed look as if to say, 'I don't even care about _anything _you are blabbing about'.

"Do you know of a Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about male reoccupation with size might be able to interest you."

Andrews and Molly Brown chuckled a bit at Quinn's childish side, as they were another two on the ship who weren't as uptight and fancy as all the other brainwashed ones, although Judy was not pleased by Quinn's obnoxious attitude at all; to her, it was the rudest thing to say to a master shipbuilder right then and there.

"What has gotten into you?" Judy whispered to her daughter. As a child, Judy Fabray was a young woman full of manners. Her parents had taught her that, and she intended to live by that rule for the rest of her life, as well as passing it onto her prestigious daughter, but apparently, Quinn had other plans; plans that would destroy their family, leaving them with no money and out on the streets, Judy working as a maid and Quinn with an improper education and early adult life.

"Excuse me," Quinn said as she pushed her wicker chair back and freed herself from the horrid world of whatever the hell she got herself trapped into.

Judy shook her head and sighed.

"I do apologize."

"She's a pistol, Finn. Hope you can handle her," Molly said with a chuckle, one after another.

Finn was quite annoyed by this woman.

"Well, I might have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs. Brown?"

Ismay sat down his previous standing to try to calm Quinn down.

"Freud... who is he? A passenger?"

…

Sam was on the third class passenger part of the ship, watching as a father and daughter pair looked beyond the railing and into an ocean of wonders. Two boys were right next to them, kicking around a heavy ball on the wooden floor of the deck as the sun shone above everyone. Sam had his notebook out and quietly sketching the father and daughter as he took her hand and pointed to things in the deep blue waters.

Sam had chosen a scene he had seen earlier with them, as the father had his arm wrapped around hers protectively. And even though it was just a sketch of his, it was quite breath taking. The shading of everything was so precise. The small 3 inch piece of charcoal he could afford was put to good use by him, as he scribbled on layers as the background and outlined certain parts of their body to make things stand out or hide behind the parts that were more important. The way Sam made every single little contour of their faces appear as if you were looking into an old black and white photograph made you confirm the fact that Sam definitley knew what he was doing.

Fabrizio started to make conversation with another third class passenger who was sitting beside him and Sam.

"The ship is nice, huh?"

"Yeah, it's an Irish ship," the man answered, with an obvious Irish accent in his deep and broad voice.

"It's an English ship, no?" Fabrizio asked.

"No, it was built in Ireland. 15,000 Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. First class dogs come down here to take a shit," which made possible to sound like 'shite', thanks to his beautiful accent.

"It lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Sam elaborated.

"Like we could forget?" The man put his cigarette back in his mouth before reaching to shake Sam's hands. "Tommy Ryan."

Sam took it and shook back.

"Sam Evans."

"Fabrizio," he introduced as he always took Tommy's hand for a friendly shake.

Tommy glanced at Sam's sketchpad.

"Hi. Do you make any money with your drawings?"

Sam would have answered, he could have answered, and he was about to answer until his little blonde thoughts were interrupted big time. Above in the first class part of the ship, a girl came into view. And it wasn't just any girl. She wasn't just some ordinary girl like all the other first class ones. She was stunning, absolutley beautiful. Her long dirty blonde locks were tied together loosely into a messy bun. Her hair wasn't nearly as blonde as Sam's lemon juice mop. She was wearing a light green dress, full length, and it hugged her curves snuggly. The color of her dress was exactly like her eyes. Those eyes. They were just amazing. He hadn't seen anything as those gorgeous hazel orbs. Exactly! They weren't green; they were a hazel, a light and dark green at the same time, a color you would see if you were to look in the forest for a little baby leaf just grown on a branch of a tiny plant, sprinkled with morning dew and raindrops. Her eyes. Those eyes. They were striking.

Tommy noticed that he was distracted and so he turned his head in Sam's direction. "Oh, forget it boyo. You'd like to have angels fly out of your ass."

Too bad Sam never took any shit from anyone. He kept staring at her. Kept staring at her eyes; _those eyes_. His blonde strips of hair blew in his face, sometimes hiding some of her face when he was looking, but he didn't care. _Those Goddamn eyes_. He had never seen anything like them. The way they were mightier than the sun, which currently shone against her figure.

Quinn laid her arms out on the railing, and sighed, finally getting some fresh air as she noticed something at the corner of her eye. She glanced over, thinking it would be nothing. But it was something. A handsome thing. And he wasn't a thing; he was a man. A man with blonde hair, blonder than hers. She noticed that he was in third class, but then again, as if she gave a damn. She quickly averted her previous gaze at him, but Sam was even faster, and was very smart, and saw the girl look back at him.

Quinn couldn't help it though. He was quite handsome. Thinking it would do no harm, she glanced over at him again for the last time.

Fabrizio waved his arms across Sam's face, and laughing when he didn't react.

Quinn kept him grip on the barriers, staring for the miles and miles the ocean lasted for until Finn came up from behind and led her back inside, like every other day, and like every other moment of her life.

…

_I saw my whole life as if I already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches. Always the same narrow people, always the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice with no one to pull me back, no one who cared or even noticed._

Quinn's red heels clanked on the wooden boards of the deck of the ship as she ran. Her nice and neat hair that was pulled back in a bun earlier for the dinner with her mother and Finn was now flinging across her shoulders as she pushed a couple out of her way and they scoffed, nearly knocking over a gentleman's champagne. She just ran, and didn't give the slightest damn to where she headed, but knew exactly where she was going. Her tears streamed down her face and you could hear weeping all around the ship. She opened a white gate, leading down to the third class part, and made her way down. She kept on running; just running. As the extent to the third class part ended, she made her way up another flight of stairs.

Sam was on a bench, in a sleeping position, smoking a cigarette, staring into the dark and black night filled with stars hidden behind the invisible clouds in the ocean sky. And like the water, it seemed like the pitch black sky went on for miles and miles, like it never ceased to exist. As he blew out a wisp of smoke, the white-ness of it contrasted with the night.

To Sam's right, the tacking sounds of high heels flooded into his ear, and a woman ran past him in a hurriedly fashion. He quickly got up and laid his right arm on the top of the bench... when he saw the girl that he'd seen earlier that day.

Quinn continued to run to her destination, gasping for air since her dress was so tight and the night was so cold. She stopped at a water fountain and grasped onto the edges of it, inhaling deep as her blonde locks were sticking to her face because of the sweat forming.

She breathed deeply, in and out. Her tears that were struggling not to fall from her pale hazel orbs were now failing as they cascaded down her cheek, trembling. Quinn's light make up was smeared across her face, and she couldn't speak. She couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight. All the sights in front of her eyes were blinding, and it made her dizzy in the head as the world spun around and around.

There was only one solution to such a disease... or at least it was the only solution to her.

Quinn started to make her way to the stern of Titanic. She took slow steps, knowing that she had all the time in the world. Her pace was patient and her heels made little 'tacks' on the floor. Slowly and slowly, she made her way to the point where she couldn't go any further... not to her though.

That was it. She had had enough of this world. Enough of all this mindless shit and crap driven towards her. How everything she did had to go by the rules; _it had to_. She couldn't make her own rules. Or better yet, how about not any rules at all. Drink your tea, do not smoke, have good posture, do not slouch, greet everyone with a smile "bright enough to cure cancer"; _she had had enough of it_. Just enough.

She turned back to see if anyone was looking, gasping as she did so, even though no one was there... or so she thought. Quinn peered over the railing, over the barrier that could either save her life... or end it. She saw the rumbling waters below. It was loud, and her ears kind of hurt. In the light that she had from the little lamp hanging above her, she could make out the color of the ocean; black. Even the white waves you could see in the morning and afternoons couldn't be made. The waters were fierce, and they roared at the bottom of the ship, practically calling to Quinn.

Quinn's trembling hands slowly made their way to the fence, a fence that was capable of saving her life. She held onto them with no effort, her quivering fingers just barely hovering over.

As she started to stand onto the railing, her hands gripped harder, and she slipped one of her heels into a space, unaware that the long cloth and beads from her fancy dress could get caught any second and she wouldn't have had any time to untangle it since she would already be plunging into the icy cold waters of the North Atlantic.

Quinn put both her feet on now, and held onto the post with the lamp tightly and dearly. The thoughts of whether she should do this or not swiveled in her mind, but knew that if she didn't, the pain and torture would continue to happen and whip her soul every day.

She put one of her legs over the railing, sitting on it, and pushed away a part of her dress that was getting in the way. Quinn put the other leg over, and now both of her legs over the railing while her grip on the pole was still strong.

As Quinn lowered herself to the point where she almost eye level with the barrier, she looked out onto the ship's deck, saying a silent goodbye to everyone. To her mother, to Finn, to her father (whom she'd meet up in Heaven)... to the blonde man she saw earlier today drawing in the afternoon.

She turned around, her back facing the people and the rest of the ship while her face met her fate.

The wisps of her hair blew onto her face, and she kept on inhaling deep breaths like she had been every since she ran out from her room. Her chest heaved, up and down. She looked incredibly pale and it didn't help that it was freezing outside while she only wore a dress.

Her arms stretched out and she drifted in the air. Her eyes were full of worry, and she didn't want to do it. She really didn't.

But what other choice did she have?

"Don't do it."

She heard the voice, surprised to see anyone here at this time, at this place and part of the ship. At a moment like this she was forced to do anything to keep anyone from distracting her, even if it meant her not yet recognizing the face that she had seen today.

"Stay away!" Quinn warned. "Don't come any closer." She tried to sound intimidating, and didn't know if she succeeded.

The man started to walk closer to her. And he came nearer and nearer, she knew. It was him; the one who was drawing today on the third class part of the deck. The one who was now trying to convince her out of suicide.

"Come on, don't do it. Just give me your hand and I'll pull you in," he said while he offered his hand.

"No! Stay where you are! I mean it! I'll let go!"

Quinn turned around again, her back to the man and she braced herself to what he was going to say.

Sam didn't know exactly what to do, what to say, but he was smart; smart enough to think of a plan in less than 2 seconds. The girl turned around again, and he hesitantly took his cigarette out of his mouth. Moving closer to the edge of the ship, he was indicating to her that he wasn't about to pull her back on board, although he intended to, but instead throw the cigarette into the water.

He did so, putting his hands into his pocket and said,

"No, you won't."

The two looked at each other in the eyes, green meeting green, and she heaved another breath.

"What do you mean, 'no, I won't'? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do; you don't know me!" Quinn practically scolded.

Sam shrugged.

"Well, you would have done it already."

"You're distracting me; go away!"

"Can't. I'm involved now. You let go, and I'm gonna have to jump in there after you." Sam started to remove some of his garments, taking off his coat first.

"Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."

Sam started untying his shoelaces.

"I'm a good swimmer."

"The fall alone would kill you."

"It would hurt, not saying it wouldn't. To tell you the truth," he said while taking his left shoe off, "I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold."

Quinn looked down at the water as she pondered a bit, and Sam looked at Quinn, knowing that his job had officially started.

"How cold?" she asked after a little moment of silence.

"Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over."

He took off his second shoe, the right one, and thumped it on the wooden boards. She stared at him with a questioned look on her face.

"You, uhh... you ever been to Minnesota?"

Quinn looked back at the ocean with her eyebrows furrowed and then back at him with a face practically screaming, 'what the hell are you talking about?'.

"What?"

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there near Buckman. I remember when I was a kid, me and my father, we went ice fishing out on Lake Winnibigoshish. Ice fishing is where you-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" Quinn spewed in exasperation.

Sam jutted his bottom lip out in a manner of apology while raising his eyebrows (which he'd later find out was Quinn's specialty) and put both his hands up to defend himself.

"Sorry. You just... seem like, ya know, kind of an indoor girl." He sucked in his cheeks and gave the eyebrows another whirl. "Anyway, I, uhh, I fell through some thin ice. I'm telling ya... water that cold... like right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives stabbed all over your body. You can't breathe... you can't think... at least not about anything but the pain."

Quinn sucked in her breath before averting her eyes to him.

"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you," he told her while unbuttoning his second layer and tearing it off his body, leaving him in nothing but a light brown shirt, "But like I said, I don't have a choice." He looked at her with welcoming and firm eyes as her scared and worried ones met his. "So I'm kinda hoping you wanna come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

"You're crazy!"

"That's what everybody says, but with all due respect, Miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on. Take my hand. Don't do this."

He put his hand out for her to hand, and after a short while of thinking this all through all over again, she gently and slowly took it and he grasped onto her's without any hesitation. Her feet slowly turned around, step by step until she faced him fully.

"Whew. I'm Sam Evans."

"Lucille Quinn Fabray."

"I'll have to get you to write that one down."

"Bah!"

"Come on."

Quinn's red heels started to make it's way up to the rail, when the beaded netting from her red dress tangled in with the shoes and she slipped, letting out a blood curdling scream as Sam's hands didn't let go of hers. Instead, they clung on, tight, not letting her go. She dropped below the previous place where she was standing and Sam struggled hard to not let go.

"_Ahh_!_ Ahh_!_ Uhh_!" Quinn's moans scared the crap out of him, and she looked to see him, her eyes, the ones he fell in love with, were now living a horror movie.

"Come on!" He started to pull her up as she tried the nudge her body to the railing as well. Her hand grabbed the railing, but unfortunately slipped once more.

"_Ahh_! _HELP_! _PLEASE HELP_!"

Quinn's screaming was heard by officers who were on watch at night and they hurriedly went off to find the source of the screech.

"Please! Please help me!"

"Listen! Listen! I've got you. I won't let go. Now, pull yourself up! Come on!"

Both of them grunted as they used all the energy and might they had left in their bodies. Sam pulled and pulled, determined to lift Quinn up as Quinn tried to push the other thoughts away and focus on the one where she could die any second.

"You can do it."

Sam continued pulling Quinn up as the officers' footsteps scampered on the boards, still trying to find the source of the screams.

Quinn held onto Sam for dear life as he finally pulled her back on the ship and they both fell onto the floor, gasping for air and she held on to his shoulders.

The officers finally made it to the stern where the scene of Quinn almost dying was mistaken and misunderstood.

"What's all this?" one of them questioned.

Sam immediately let go of Quinn, knowing that he would be in some deep shit if he didn't, no matter how much he didn't want to let go. Quinn was still breathing heavily, and the panting and screaming and Sam letting go of Quinn while he was still previously holding on to her all added up to the officers, but they weren't very good at math.

"You stand back and don't move an inch!"

Sam rolled his eyes in his mind, knowing that he would get in trouble for saving Quinn's life. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

"Fetch me the master at arms!"

…

Quinn was wrapped in a plaid blue blanket while drinking some hot tea that was offered to her, sitting quietly on the bench.

Sam was handcuffed by one of the officers while Finn was droning on and on about all the 'wrong doings' of this.

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think that you could put your hands on my fiancée?"

Sam's eyes glanced over to where Quinn was.

"Look at me!" Finn growled.

"Finn!"

"What kind of a person do you think that you are? Do you-"

"Finn! It was an accident!" Quinn went over to Finn and stopped him from almost making Sam sink into the ground because of all his yelling.

"An... an accident?" Finn raised his eyebrows.

Sam looked at Quinn again with one of his famous looks: the confused deer.

"It was. Stupid, really. I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning far over to see the, uhh, uhh, uhh..." Quinn closed her eyes, thinking hard about the word that was at the tip of her tongue. She started to spin her fingers 'round and 'round, and admittedly, she looked somewhat stupid.

"Propellers?" Finn asked.

"Propellers. And uhh," she continued, and Finn rolled his eyes, "And I slipped. And I would've gone overboard but Mr. Evans here saved me and almost went over himself."

"The propellers? The propellers. She wanted to see the propellers."

"Women and machinery do not mix. Was that the way of it?"

Sam looked over to Quinn, whose eyes were begging him not to tell.

"Yeah, yeah, that was pretty much it."

"Hmm, so now the boy's a hero. Well done, good lad. Now gentlemen, let's return to our brandy, ehh?"

The officer uncuffed Sam and Finn rubbed Quinn's arms, making sure she was extra warm and comfy.

"You must be freezing," Finn said to Quinn. "Let's get you inside."

As Quinn and Finn were walking back, a voice stopped them.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy?"

"Of course," Finn said, "Mr. Hatewoe, a twenty should do it."

"Haha, is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Quinn asked.

"Quinn is displeased. What to do? I know."

Finn made his way to Sam, who was putting his articles of clothing back on his body.

"Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening to regale our group with your heroic tale," Finn offered.

"Sure. Count me in," Sam agreed.

"Good. Settled, then." As Finn walked away with another man, he whispered, "This should be interesting."

Quinn and Finn made their way back to their rooms, and Hatewoe was about to join them, until Sam whistled out to him.

"Hey... can I, uhh... bum a smoke?"

Hatewoe walked over to Sam and put his hand out for him to take one.

"You'll want to tie those," Hatewoe said, indicating to his shoes. "It's interesting how the young lady slips so suddenly and you still have time to remove your jacket _and _your shoes."

Hatewoe walked away with an invisible smirk on his evil face and Sam's cigarette balanced between his two rows of teeth before thinking through everything that had just happened all over again.

^.^

_OK, so that's it. Hopefully you liked it very much! I think it's a pretty long chapter. Sam and Quinn have finally met! Yay! A lot of the people who have reviewed say that they know the ending to what this is going to be already, and have asked for a 'twist'. And of course, I was never going to let this story go as the exact same thing that happened in the movie, and so I do have a little something something in the end. ;) Although it's not the opposite of what happens in the movie. :( It's only because, ya know, it would be historically inaccurate for a third class male like Sam to be able to go in a lifeboat or scientifically inaccurate for Sam to survive in hypothermia in freezing water. But a miracle does happen! So yeah! Please review! It makes me very happy and I appreciate it so much! Thanks again! I love all the support you guys give me! It means so much! I love you guys! Please review! Thanks! ;D_


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